I had almost everything I needed that a single guy would want.
I had my Harley motorcycle, I had my plasma TV, I had my Ford truck...
I needed a big burly dog to ride shotgun in my truck.
Every man should have "man's best friend".
So, determined to add the last piece of the puzzle to my life, I headed out to the local shelter.
No need to spend hundreds on my dog, there are so many at the shelter, I'd just choose the biggest meanest looking one.
If he doesn't bite, he'll be perfect.
He'll be a protector and a great passenger as I go cruising around town.
Heck, he'll even be my fishing buddy.
I entered the shelter and the member of staff thought I was there to perform some type of construction work.
I suppose my appearance may have given that impression, but I didn't care.
"I'm here to find a large, strong dog".
Hey, he had to match me! I walked around and saw quite a few interesting dogs.
A Shepard, well that was a man's dog if I ever saw one.
Across the aisle was a Lab, I wondered how I'd choose.
I was ready to just throw a coin as I really wanted my dog that day, when I felt a soft tap on my shoulder.
A woman who appeared dwarfed compared to my 6'2" height, stood before me.
Just as I was about to say hello, I noticed she was holding something.
In her arms was some type of creature, a scrawny little thing...
must be cat, I thought.
I told the woman I was looking for a dog, not a cat.
She held the animal closer to me and with the voice of a shy librarian; she told me it was a dog.
Now, I know what a dog is and I knew of my intention to walk out of there with the biggest, strongest one I could find.
But this woman quietly said, "Look" and I did.
A tiny little dog is what I saw, but my eyes really only focused on his eyes.
He stared right at me.
She told me he was a Pomeranian and he wasn't named yet.
A dog that was an owner-give-up, his breeder was closing down.
Now, I tried to turn away and get my attention back to my prospective watchdog and best buddy, when this woman said, "I think he was expecting you".
I was trying to remain polite and was going to ask her how a man like me would want a Pomeranian.
A big dog for a big man: that was my goal.
But before I could get the words out, this dog's eyes caught me again.
The shiniest blue eyes I ever saw.
He stared into mine as if he wanted to say something.
The woman told me he was scheduled to be put to sleep in two days and she asked me to consider him.
I looked into this Pomeranian's eyes again and thought, "Damn, there goes my plans to have my best-buddy, shotgun- riding passenger, fishing companion.
" I brought him home and in an attempt to keep part of my original plan and recoup some success, I named him Harley.
Harley is my dog and I am not the type of guy who shows any emotions; that's not manly.
It's simple: I have my passenger for my cruising, Harley jumps in my truck, wearing his bandana and we drive around with the windows down.
Tucked into his seat restraint, no one can see him.
But hey, I don't care.
Hey, that's my dog and no one better say anything! We sit together on the couch and I have my watchdog.
Harley, my Pomeranian jumps up and barks up a storm whenever any one comes close to my door.
We went fishing last week and we had a blast.
We listened to tunes and stayed on the dock for hours.
He got so excited when I caught some really nice Karps.
Now, again, I do not show emotion...
men don't have time for that.
But Harley...
"I love you, man".